


Boil Away

by ursweetheartless



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angsting, Kitchen!Sex, M/M, MCUish, blindfold, it's been awhile, past!avengers, sneaky!loki, some sex?, sulking!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursweetheartless/pseuds/ursweetheartless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(frostiron)<br/>in which Tony has gotten himself hurt and no one is very good at dealing with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boil Away

The night that Tony got out of the hospital was a very long night. One arm was in a sling, his side was wrapped tightly and stitched up in four neat rows– only one of them had been from the surgery, where they'd stopped the internal bleeding only just in time –and his hip was sore and still painted with yellowing bruises. He still spent it puttering around his workshop, ignoring pleas and threats (from Bruce and Steve respectively) that he go get some proper rest. As in, go upstairs to bed. Tony eventually shut down communications with the rest of the tower, having JARVIS put the workshop into lockdown.  
  
And Tony waited.  
  
He fixed the suit first.  
  
Once he was done with that– once none of the joints so much as squeaked and not a single panel was scratched, dented, or scorched, and he'd painted it to look just like new –he tore the thing apart for scrap, rebuilding it piece by piece until it was brand new and packed with upgrades. He figured he might use around half of them, but it kept him busy and that was what he needed more than anything. Well, more than almost anything.  
  
With one arm out of commission, that took him a little over a week. It was a week in which he never once left the workshop. He slept sprawled forwards across the steel counter wherever he managed to pass out, and he ate whatever some concerned teammate chose to leave by the door, usually long after it had grown cold. Tony had made it clear to JARVIS that no one– and he meant _no one_ –was getting into the workshop, and the windows surrounding it were always tinted to almost black, the music always cranked to maximum volume, JARVIS only turning it down once Tony was already fast asleep.  
  
It helped Tony to not think. It helped Tony to not notice the time passing, or what was happening. Or, really, what wasn't happening.  
  
It all stopped on the ninth day. It wasn't the end he'd been hoping for, though he had been quite ready for any ending to it at that point.  
  
The music had suddenly cut out while Tony was struggling to find some fault he could fix in the suit without testing it or some feature he could add that might do something new, and Tony looked up with a cautious smile. He tried not to let it fall when he saw Pepper standing there, looking like she was ready to slaughter him where he stood, but he knew he didn't succeed when the enraged look in her eyes dimmed to something worried and sympathetic.  
  
That meant she'd noticed, which meant she would ask about it, which meant she wouldn't _stop_ asking about it until Tony answered her. Which meant he could either explain everything now or wait until she figured it out on her own, which never took Pepper very long.  
  
The question hung in the air between them palpably, but Pepper didn't ask it for once.  
  
Instead she shooed him out of the lab and into the elevator, and then out into the penthouse. She shooed him all the way into the shower, and didn't stop prodding and fussing over him until he was clean, dressed in a loose set of soft cotton pajamas he didn't recognize, and tucked into bed with some sort of grilled turkey sandwich in his hands, along with a few bottles of water set up on the nightstand.  
  
That worried Tony even more.  
  
X  
  
Once he'd been forced into it, Tony spent a week and a half in bed. His teammates taking turns taking care of him and also probably keeping a close watch over him too. He smiled at each one in turn, telling them how much he appreciated this– _really_ , it was _sweet_ –and how he didn't know his own limits sometimes, how he didn't feel his own mortality until something like this happened and knocked him on his ass. He held his breath and waited it out, keeping one eye open for anything weird. Anything at all.  
  
There wasn't anything though. Nothing. It was _crushing_ him.  
  
Eventually, he got better. His stitches were removed, his shoulder cleared, his cast swapped out for a brace, which was eventually lost somewhere in the bottom of his closet. He went back to work in the lab, and he was even cleared to fight with the team again, called out whenever some big baddie decided to come rough up the city.  
  
He still waited though, still watched. Sometimes he felt like he caught a glimpse of green and gold reflected in something, or out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pick up speed, and his breath would catch in his throat, and he would whirl around with an almost smile ghosting on his lips. Every time it turned out to be nothing though, he'd be alone. He knew he was being foolish, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself.  
  
This was bound to happen eventually, and he knew it. Loki was a god. He was immortal, and perfect, and so _so_ smart. He was bound to tire of Tony before too long, especially seeing as Tony couldn't manage to keep a relationship with another human going for more than a few months. How could he manage to keep the attention of a _god_? He couldn't hold onto anything, especially something that good.  
  
X  
  
Tony was alone in the tower. Everyone else had lives.  
  
Clint and Natasha had missions, they were off somewhere halfway around the world, location classified. Steve had taken to doing USO tours during their down time, and Tony had lost track of where he'd gone off to this time. Banner was playing doctor somewhere in south america. Thor was in New Mexico, playing house with Jane. Even Pepper was busy, managing Tony's company while he fucked around in the lab and tried to make scientific breakthroughs just happen. To be fair, they did happen every week or two, which was enough to take the edge off at least. Science still made everything else stop inside his mind, it was just the way he was wired. He had to take a break sometime though, and that's when the rest of his life crept back in.  
  
He was in the kitchen when he saw it, the glint of gold and green in the stainless steel of the fridge door. He bit his lip, and forced himself not to turn around, not to get his hopes up. It was a resolution he'd made for himself. He couldn't live this way forever. He had to get on with his life.  
  
Then, he felt the cold behind him, and his heart exploded into rapid motion. He would have turned around then, eyes wide, but he couldn't, because several things were happening all at once. For one, there was suddenly something tied rather tightly over his eyes, something dark and soft that smelled faintly of snow and spice and old earth.  
  
That smell was enough to still his mind for a moment, caught between the desire to relax into it– familiar as it was to him –and to fight. Secondly, there were cold hands on his arms, shoving him forwards into the steel surface of the fridge and pinning him there with inhuman strength. His body was tense, sure, but his knees were almost buckling beneath him at the same time. He swallowed hard against his suddenly dry throat, unable to make a sound, save for a single choked word.  
  
"Loki...?" He knew it was stupid, and it certainly sounded it in his ears. If he could have taken it back, sucked it from the air, he would have. The way it was sad, broken, almost pleading in tone. There was a dry chuckle next to his ear, and cold breath suddenly fanning over the sensitive skin behind it. He shivered.  
  
 _Hey_.  
  
He didn't shiver! He was Tony Goddamn Stark. He wasn't supposed to respond like this, wasn't supposed to feel like this. Hell, he wasn't supposed to feel at all. That wasn't what he did.  
  
"Did you miss me, pet?" The words were low, gravely, and they made Tony shiver again, the sensation thrilling through him. He'd known before, who it was– how could it have been anyone else? –but there was a difference between knowing and knowing. Between being sure it was Loki and hearing that voice. He almost whimpered in relief before he caught himself.  
  
He was supposed to be angry. He'd thought long and hard in the time since he'd been injured, and he had this conversation planned out. He knew exactly what he wanted to yell at Loki, all the awful things he wanted to call him, all the insults. It had hurt, it had been a kick while he was down, when Loki hadn't shown up while he recovered. Loki couldn't just waltz back in now without some sort of explanation.  
  
He didn't get anything more than a heavy breath out though, because as soon as he'd opened his mouth, Loki's was on his neck, leaving painful bites and cold soothing kisses right on the sensitive juncture of his shoulder, and one of Loki's cool smooth hands was sliding down the front of his loose sweat pants, cupping his already half hard cock, encouraging him to full hardness.  
  
He bit his lip hard, but it was pointless to fight it and he knew it. He was already lost, he was going to give in, both of them knew it. Still, he was Tony Stark, and he couldn't make it easy. He bucked, frustrated and angry and buzzing with nervous energy. Loki was a goddamned god though, and he was like stone, holding Tony's hip like a vice, his other hand still wrapped tightly around Tony's now rock hard cock. Tony gritted his teeth.  
  
" _Why?_ " It was the only word he could make his mouth form. Loki's lips paused against his skin as if considering, before pulling back to answer.  
  
"Because I can. Because I do what I want, and this is what I want Stark." Tony feels some of the nervous burst of energy leave him. He isn't satisfied though, not by a long shot. He scrabbles for some kind of purchase against the steel of the refrigerator door, trying to push back. He can't though. Loki is an immovable object, an unstoppable force, and Tony knows this. He wants this. He grits his teeth.  
  
"It didn't seem like you did, actually. You were gone for a long time, asshole. I was starting to think you weren't going to come back." Tony's brain is working again, pulling slowly out of his stupor. Fight or flight is gone, the vicious speed of it bleeding from his limbs. Tony lets out a laugh, but it isn't very humorous.  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
I waited for you. I needed you. Those aren't words he says though. He can't say them. It would break too many rules. Or rather, it would be admitting that he already has broken too many rules. There wasn't supposed to be any attachment, any feelings. It was just sex. Well, it was supposed to be. Tony doesn't really expect an answer to that, so when Loki speaks he goes still in surprise.  
  
"Asgard. I had business to attend to there. Something to retrieve." Tony stiffens again. _Asgard_. That was dangerous. Loki was still a wanted man there, and if Odin got his hands on him, Tony was pretty sure he'd never see Loki again. He swallowed, but didn't say anything about it. Loki can feel it in the way he reacts though, he must have, because he growls against Tony's neck, feral and frustrated. Maybe Loki is rubbing off on him a little, because there's a sick sense of satisfaction in Tony's gut at that noise. At least he's not the only one.  
  
The satisfaction is short lived, because suddenly he's being pulled harshly away from the steel front of the fridge and then he's slammed down on the cold stone of the kitchen counter with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. Loki is behind him again in a second, breathing harshly over the back of his neck.  
  
"Enough, Stark. This is pointless chatter. I desire more from you." And Tony feels a leap in his stomach, suddenly aware of how hard he still is, because he can feel Loki's cock against his ass through his sweat pants and whatever Loki is wearing. Probably something tight and black and leather. Tony almost moans at the memory of Loki's pants, and the outline of his cock inside of them. Then, just because he can, and he's sure it will get things moving again, he does. He moans, pushing his hips backwards. Loki's answering hiss of pleasure is a heady reward.  
  
And things are moving more quickly then, as the cool air of the room hits his suddenly bare ass, and Loki's cold fingers grasp his ass, sliding down over the globes of it before pulling them apart and Tony can feel Loki's eyes on him, hungry and burning and even though he can't see anything he knows that look and how it sits on Loki's face, and his hole twitches at the feeling.  
  
Loki's fingers are long and slim and cool, as one of those hands pulls back for a moment, only to return, pressing against the ring of muscle. Tony can't help but tighten against it, his hole spasming once more against the touch. Loki isn't pushing though, he isn't plowing inside, storming the fortress. He just rubs against it, almost lightly, causing an odd tingling anticipation to run down Tony's spine. Tony bites his lip against the pleas that want so very very badly to fall out of his mouth. He can't give Loki the satisfaction.  
  
Loki's eyes are hot on his skin, and it quickens his breathing as one long finger finally pushes through, breaching the tight ring of muscle just slightly before pulling back. Tony is a mess now, and he can taste blood in his mouth from how badly he wants to just call out and end this torture, this drawn out teasing.  
  
He doesn't have to. Loki is obviously far from calm himself, because the next moment that long finger is slick with something, and it's pushing inside. Deeply. Tony can't quite hold back the little keening whine this time, because when he does this by himself, alone in his room, it's never like this. His fingers are shorter, warmer, thicker. They can never quite reach the way Loki's always can.  
  
He bucks back against the finger, and Loki's breath hitches at the motion. Tony lets his mouth curl in satisfaction for a moment before another finger jams itself in beside the first, and he winces at the burn, the stretch. It doesn't exactly hurt, but it's enough to remind him of who's behind him. Like he's forgotten. Like he could ever forget.  
  
The third finger comes easier, Loki is more delicate with it, and Tony forces himself to relax around them. He has only just managed to, forcing mind over matter, when Loki curves them, pushing backwards just enough that Tony's whole body goes tight again, rippling and shivering with pleasure, and Tony can't fight back the moan. He doesn't want to anymore. He opens his mouth, panting and blind, and he can't stop the words from tumbling out.  
  
"God, Loki. Now, _please_. I _need_ you... please" Loki doesn't react right away, though he does pause for a second. Those long cool fingers are still moving inside of Tony, still curling and pressing, and Tony can't be still. He's moving, his hips shallowly fucking back onto those fingers, his hands grasping the edge of the counter in a white knuckled death grip, the marble going warm under the thin cloth of the t-shirt he's still wearing.  
  
Loki doesn't make him say it again, though Tony is more than ready to at this point. Tony is ready to do anything. He doesn't have to. Loki's cock is against him in a moment, the fingers stretching apart for a moment– and Tony winces and pants and keens with delight at the sensation –before the blunt head of Loki is pressing inside of him.  
  
"Fuck!" Loki's cock is wider than three fingers, and long, and fucking perfect, and Tony has been thinking– dreaming –about this for way way too long now. He can't stop the little keening moans from spilling out of his mouth, the way his breath comes quick and uneven as Loki slides slowly into him, inch by agonizing and orgasmic inch.  
  
Loki pauses for a moment when he's fully inside, hands firmly clutching Tony's hips as Tony's ass cheeks fit snugly against Loki's pelvic bone. Tony tries to buck backwards, to get any sort of movement, but Loki is still too strong, too dedicated to keeping him still, and it's killing him. Tony lets out a frustrated gasp from between clenched teeth.  
  
"Fuck... please. Goddamn-it Loki, _move_. I need- I just... _please_..." Something in the garble of curses and pleas are the words Loki is looking for, because he shifts, his cock moving just slightly. Then he's pulling out, leaving Tony feeling empty and barren for a few long agonizing heartbeats before pushing back inside, knocking the breath from Tony's lungs.  
  
The pace Loki sets then is punishing, quick and relentless. Tony can't do anything in the face of such an onslaught, nothing but scrabble to hold on to the edge of the counter with shaking, sweaty hands, a litany of nonsense falling from his open mouth on each panting breath, between the moans that Tony can't even think about controlling anymore. Loki leans forwards, his chest pressing tightly to Tony's back. His voice is like syrup in Tony's ear, purring out little phrases like _so good_ and _this is where you belong_. Tony might have thought to argue, had his higher brain been functioning right then, but all he could think then was yes, his mouth forming the word as he felt the pleasure sparkling inside of him, climbing and exploding up to it's inevitable peak.  
  
Loki reached that peak first, going stiff and still inside of him, and Tony could feel the cool wetness spreading inside of him, leaking down from his hole as Loki pressed into him one last time. Loki's hand was cool and soft when it pulled him back, wrapping around his hot shaft. It only took a second, a single tug, and a whispered command to come, and Tony was tight with his own orgasm, the pleasure making his muscles tense and causing him to bite out some strangled version of Loki's name.  
  
Loki caught him before his knees could give way, guiding him down until he was sprawled half across Loki's leather-clad lap and half across the stone tiles of the kitchen floor. Loki was whispering sweet nothings into his hair, praise and curses and promises that Tony couldn't understand. He just let his head lay against Loki's shoulder as the god moved, hands leaving him to fiddle with something from one of his pockets.  
  
They weren't gone for long though. One of them came up to card calmingly through Tony's hair, the other pressed something to his panting mouth. It was sweet and tart and crisp, a slice of something tasting faintly like summer sun and nothing like any fruit he'd ever eaten in his life. Tony didn't question it, just devouring each slice as it was put in his mouth, gently licking Loki's fingers clean of juice.  
  
After every slice was gone, they just sat there, huddled together on the floor in silence, in peace. Loki's arms were wound around Tony like a cage, and it didn't take long for Tony to nod off into the first bit of peaceful sleep he'd had in almost a month.  
  
The first bit since he'd been hurt.


End file.
